Set iPod to Shuffle
by Some Call Me Tim
Summary: Just another cluster of oneshots based on songs. Currently includes Nine in the Afternoon, If I Only Were A Goth, Betrayed, No Hablo Ingles, Uprising, and Are You Gonna Be My Girl. Edited and revised.
1. Nine in the Afternoon

Nine in the Afternoon – Panic! At the Disco

It was a tense morning in the von Karma household, but this was no surprise to Miles. The atmosphere always exuded a feeling of unease and dread, but a dark cloud descended on the days in which the master of the house was provoked. Franziska had been studying French very hard for quite some time, but wasn't nearly a skilled enough speaker in the eyes of her father, the legendary (and quite extreme) prosecutor Manfred von Karma. He insisted that his child be cultured and well rounded, which meant she was to speak several languages, even at the young age of 12. There was no exception, he said, even for the language of those, "pathetic, snail-eating fools who dared to call themselves Europeans".

Thus, here was Franziska, cramming verb conjugations into her mind so fervently that she was about ready to pull out her beautiful blue hair.

Miles had never approved of his foster father's methods of teaching Franziska—and was particularly irked by Manfred's mocking of escargot in front of the girl, since Miles was a big fan of the food—so he decided to offer his assistance in her studies. After all, he had already aced his French exams.

Franziska was always dismissive of Miles, but decided to put their differences aside and accept his help graciously. Well, as graciously as she could manage without showing how much in need of his help she was.

"Hmm, let's start with…time," Miles said as he glanced over her study material.

"Fool," Franziska muttered. "I'm already perfect in saying the time. Pick something else!" Miles rolled his eyes. He would never understand why Franziska insisted on being so difficult, but he knew how to deal with it. "Just humor me, Franziska. I'd love to hear how perfectly you speak the time," he pleaded with her. She reluctantly agreed.

"Alright…quelle huere est-il?" Miles pronounced flawlessly.

Franziska held her head up with a look of superiority. "Il est neuf hueres," she said rather perfectly herself.

Miles looked at her expectantly. "And…? Can you expand on that? The time of day, maybe?"

Franziska scoffed. "Of course I can, don't be foolish! Repeat the question, Miles Edgeworth. The conversation must be perfectly complete." Miles complied with a sigh. "Quelle huere est-il?"

"Il est neuf hueres…" Franziska paused to think. "Il est neuf hueres de l'apres-midi…?"

Miles smirked. "Franziska, you just said it's nine in the afternoon."

Franziska scowled to hide her embarrassment from her adopted brother. "O-of course I did, fool! I was merely testing you!" She tried again. "Il est neuf hueres…du matin."

"Much better," Miles said, and then he smirked again. "Hmm, nine in the afternoon…that would be quite confusing."

Franziska smiled despite herself. It made Miles happy to see her smile. She rarely did, since she was taught to think of happiness as a sign of weakness. "Only a foolishly foolish fool like yourself would waste time pondering such foolish things. Move on, Miles Edgeworth."

The two carried on with their studying, and Miles would continue to tease Franziska about her mistake. In turn, she would stare at him with wide eyes and smack him with her newly purchased riding crop. Miles tried telling her that such weapons were not meant to be used on people, but she interrupted him with another strike from her crop until he at last remained silent. In the end, however, Miles had taught Franziska well, and she went on to pass her exam with flying colors. She had actually received higher marks than Miles had, but amazingly she did not boast her success, which surprised Miles greatly. Maybe he had helped her with more than just French.

…

"…Miles Edgeworth! You will answer me!" The crack of Franziska's whip brought Miles out of his daydreaming spell. He looked around the room he found himself in. It was his room as a child in the von Karma mansion. The house of his mentor, Manfred von Karma. The man who had destroyed Miles' life 15 years ago, and then, in a moment of either mercy or insanity, had decided to take the boy under his wing. The thought of that dark moment in the courthouse elevator, that single gunshot and that bone chilling scream, flooded Miles' mind. He would never forget that moment as long as he lived. The moment of his father's death. He was in the house where it all began.

Miles closed his eyes and breathed deeply. _I cannot dwell on the past forever, _he thought. He opened his eyes to look at the young woman in front of him. What had made him think of such an inconsequential memory? What she said next reminded him.

"Miles Edgworth! What are you doing here and what are you so foolishly gawking at?" Franziska asked impatiently, whip taut in her hands. Miles looked down to the paper sitting on the desk, the thing he had been "so foolishly gawking at". It was a test paper with full marks, but not a test of his: it was Franziska's. It was the very French test he had been helping her prepare for years ago and was evidence of the first time Franziska was able to study without being utterly terrified of Manfred's wrath, should she not be perfect in every way. He flipped through the test, and found the section on time, which had been written particularly neatly, as if the paper itself was showing off. Why was such a document in his room? He shrugged. It didn't matter, really.

Miles continued his wandering around the room, picking up the occasional item. "I'm just here to fetch a few things," he answered Franziska, ignoring her other outburst. "I'll be flying out tomorrow."

"What time will you be leaving tomorrow?" she asked, resting her hands on her hips.

"Nine o'clock."

Franziska frowned. "What a foolish answer. Nine what?" she asked. "As a student of von Karma, you should always be perfectly precise in your response!"

He smiled as he exited the room. "Nine in the afternoon," he said softly.


	2. If I Only Were A Goth

If I Only Were A Goth – ThouShaltNot

Phoenix Wright had always enjoyed Halloween; he liked the creative costumes, the festive atmosphere, and handing out candy to cute kids that were only too grateful for more sugar.

Not this year, however. This year was going to be torture.

The attorney hadn't worn a costume himself in years, since he much preferred giving out candy and watching the trick-or-treaters from his apartment. But this was going to be Pearl's first Halloween, so he gave in to Maya's plea and agreed to allow her to get him a costume.

What a mistake that would be.

"Well, Nick…I have some bad news," Maya said after she and Pearl entered Phoenix's apartment. She sent Pearly off to get ready and continued. "I sorta forgot that I have no money…so we'll just have to improvise your costume!" She was instantly chipper. Phoenix, on the other hand, felt his heart sinking to his feet. The only thing he trusted less than Maya buying him a costume was Maya _making _him a costume.

"Okay…well, did you at least bring something to make a costume, or do I have to find something myself?" Phoenix asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Of course I brought stuff, silly! Here, I'll help you get ready. Come on!" Maya grabbed hold of Phoenix's arm and dragged him toward the bathroom. He became increasingly disheartened.

"So, you should probably put your actual costume on first, and then we'll do your make-up. Just one sec…" Maya began digging through the large tote bad she brought with her. Phoenix could no longer hide his distain and groaned loudly.

"Make-up? Please tell me you're joking. I mean, a costume is one thing, but-" Maya cut him off. "You have to have make-up, Nick! It makes the costume! Look, just trust me, okay? Relax." Phoenix was not comforted.

He was even more nervous when Maya brought out a very tight-looking pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt to match. "Maya…" Phoenix began. "Those look like they're your size."

"They are. Why?" Her face remained expressionless.

"What do you mean, 'why'?! How are those supposed to fit me?!" Phoenix shouted.

"Cool it, Nick, they're supposed to look tight! Besides, they're the only black things I could find," she said sheepishly. "You're gonna be a vampire! They're all the rage now, what with that one book series…"

"Are you talking about Twilight?" Phoenix asked with a sigh.

"Yeah, that's it…wow Nick, how'd you know? Have you read them?"

"N-no, of course not!" Phoenix said, his face turning a bright red. "I just…give me those and I'll change." He snatched the clothes from Maya and walked toward his bedroom.

After much struggle, Phoenix managed to get into the ridiculous ensemble and retuned to the bathroom, where Maya was waiting. She went into hysterics the instant she saw him. After collapsing to the floor and laughing for several minutes straight, she got back to her feet. "I'm sorry Nick, you, pwhh, look awesome!" She reached into her bag again, and this time pulled out a handful of intimidating-looking tools. "Time for make-up!" she said. She forced Phoenix into a chair in front of the mirror and got to work.

Phoenix sat there as calmly as he could, but when he saw Maya grab a second eyeliner pencil, he got scared. "Maya, you used up a whole thing of eyeliner already! I think that's plenty!" he said, terrified.

"I know what I'm doing Nick, yeesh. Alright, aaand…you're done!" Maya moved so Phoenix could see himself. He stood up and almost fell to the ground. "What the hell is this?!" Phoenix did his best not to cry at the sight of himself—if nothing else, because he didn't want the eyeliner, which now formed huge black circles around his eyes, to smudge and become any worse.

"Oh don't be a baby, you look great! That black lipstick really suits you. Um…" Maya bit her lip. "It looks like I forgot the plastic teeth. And the cloak. So, this is your costume!" she said with a flourish, a silly grin on her face.

Phoenix just stared, his empty eyes glowing white against the black of his makeup. "So basically, I'm just a 24 year old man dressed like a troubled teenager. Brilliant." He became aware of something around his throat. He looked and saw the black choker necklace with silver spikes secured menacingly just below his Adam's apple. "Where did you get this?" he asked. "Please don't tell me it's yours."

"Haha, very funny. Actually, it's a, um, dog collar!" Maya answered.

"Oh, God…" Phoenix buried his head in hands, but immediately lifted it for fear of smearing the makeup into an even more ridiculous state. "Let's just get this over with." The man left Maya to change and sulkily went to set up for trick-or-treaters.

He found Pearl in the kitchen, organizing the candy and looking at it longingly. She was dressed as an adorable little mummy. Phoenix smiled and went over to her. "Pearls, you can have a piece of candy if you like."

Pearl glanced up and smiled. Part of her mummy wrapping flopped in her eyes as she did. "Oh, thank you Mr. Nick!" she said as she grabbed a Snickers bar from the counter. "Um, you look very…frightening, Mr. Nick. Is that what you're supposed to say on Halloween?" Pearl looked very confused.

_Poor thing, _Phoenix thought. _So sheltered._ He patted her head and moved the candy bowl near the door.

Maya exited the bathroom just as the doorbell rang. Phoenix was walking to the door, but he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Maya. She was dressed in the most elaborate—and probably most expensive—Pink Princess costume he had ever seen. At first he thought that she actually looked quite pretty, but he quickly became too angry to think of complimenting her.

"Maya, how did you afford that?! I thought you said you had no money for costumes!" he exclaimed.

Maya rolled her eyes at him. "I didn't say I was broke _before_ I went to find costumes. I bought mine and Pearly's, but then I ran out of money for yours!"

Phoenix was beginning to get angry. "So, you bought that ridiculous costume, which you'll wear _once, _and didn't even stop to think about me! Instead, you dressed me up like a moron with no regard for how I'd feel! Talk about selfish, Maya!" he shouted at her.

Maya began to pout and slumped her shoulders. She mumbled something about Pearl being able to wear it someday, but Phoenix was in no mood to forgive her so easily. Pearl saw Maya's dejected posture and immediately jumped to her defense. "Mr. Nick, how could you?! That's no way to talk to your special someone!" Pearl reached up to smack Phoenix across the face, but her costume was hindering her vision, so she missed and hit him in the eye.

Phoenix yelped. For an 8-year-old girl, she packed a powerful punch. _Well, at least the make-up will hide the black eye I'll probably have soon, _he thought bitterly.

The bell rang again, and again, and again as the ringer became more impatient. Phoenix hurried to the door, feigning happiness the best he could. "Happy Hallow- Larry! What the heck are you doing here?!" he yelled as he realized it was not a child at the door, but rather his best friend since grade school, dressed in prisoner garb. He had handcuffs shaped as hearts around his wrists.

"What, you're not happy to see me? I thought I'd just stop by to hang out, but if you're gonna be like that…" Larry paused to look at Phoenix. "Dude, are you wearing guy-liner?" Larry started giggling.

"Oh just shut up and come in, Larry. What are _you _supposed to be?" Phoenix snapped, surveying Larry's outfit.

Larry entered the apartment, grabbed a handful of candy, and collapsed on the couch. "Dude, Nick, I'm a Prisoner of Love! Y'know, since Polly dumped me, I've realized that chicks have just been taking advantage of me, and I'm done with it! I'm locked up in this cage, but that cage is my own heart!" he snapped right back.

_Polly? _thought Phoenix. _What a stupid name_. His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell again. He opened it, Maya holding the candy bowl beside him. He supposed she was trying to make amends by helping. "Happy Halloween!" he said cheerfully. Maya held the candy out to children.

Looking at those adorable little costumes and big toothless smiles, Phoenix was reminded why he loved Halloween. That is, until they caught sight of him.

"Eww, it's a Goth guy!" The kids screamed, and they ran from his apartment without candy.

"Wait no, I'm a vampire! That's all!" Phoenix called after them. One of the kids reappeared in the doorway. "Shut up, emo!" the boy said as he kicked Phoenix in the shin, and ran away again.

"Arrgh! I'm done!" Phoenix limped to the couch and left Maya in charge of handing out candy for the rest of the night.

Two hours later, the trick-or-treaters had all gone home, and Phoenix went to change into normal clothes. He came back to the living room and saw Pearl asleep on the couch, chocolate smudges all over her mummy costume. Unfortunately, Larry was lying on the floor in a similar position, which made the scene far less endearing. Phoenix woke him up and sent him home, and Maya helped Pearl out of her costume and the two went home themselves. Once everyone cleared out, Phoenix went to bed, thankful that the night was finally over.

…

It was Monday morning, and Phoenix was sitting in the defendant's lobby, waiting for the trial to begin. He had washed his face for two hours the day before, but the make-up Maya attacked him with refused to come off: the eyeliner specifically. The horrid black rings remained around his eyes, as if he hadn't been able to sleep for the past year.

"Long night, Wright?" Phoenix cringed at that voice. He turned to see Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth silently laughing at him.

"Looks like you got in a fight, pal," said Detective Gumshoe, who had just walked up. He looked at Phoenix, scratched his head, and chuckled.

"Ugh, please don't ask…" Phoenix said. He swore to himself that he would never dress for Halloween again.


	3. Betrayed

Betrayed – The Producers (Original Soundtrack)

The words echoed in his ears. They stung him like an arrow through the heart. _She had given it to Wright as a gift!_ What could that mean? It scared him even to consider the meaning.

"Wait, Edgey…What's going on between Nick and Iris?" His voice quivered as he spoke.

He couldn't take these thoughts any longer. "Why you, Niiiiiiiiiick?!" he howled. "You doooooooooooooooooog!"

Larry Butz was a rather insensitive man, but one thing he could not stand was betrayal: especially if it involved a girl he loved. As he walked to the hospital, he couldn't help but think how cruelly his "best friend" had stabbed him in the back, stolen that girl from him and left him with nothing.

He entered the hospital in a huff, and rushed up the receptionist's desk. "I need to see Phoenix Wright, it's ultra-super important!" he said. The receptionist, after eyeing him suspiciously, agreed to take him to see Mr. Wright. As they were walking, Larry heard a patient in a nearby room yell, "Nurse, I think it's time for my sponge bath…hmm, yes…". Larry tried to catch a glimpse in to the room, but the receptionist dragged him to the ward where Phoenix was resting. She went in to tell Phoenix he had a visitor, and then left the two men alone.

Phoenix looked very sickly. That was no surprise, considering he had just recently fallen into a near-frozen river. But Larry wasn't here to pay his condolences.

"Hey, Larry…Laurice, I should say," Phoenix said in a gravelly voice. He smiled. "Do you need something?"

Larry looked at him with all the seriousness he could muster (which wasn't much). Then he spoke, "Nick, tell me the absolute truth. Do you and Iris…have something going on?"

Phoenix stiffened, remaining impassive. It seemed Larry's question had struck a nerve. "Wh-why do you ask, Larry?" The friendliness had disappeared from his voice.

Larry continued, "Well, it was just…I heard Iris gave you her hood. And, I mean, we're sort of gonna get married, so I don't really want her running around giving pieces of clothing to other dudes, y'know?" There was a hint of desperation in his voice.

Phoenix lost his temper. "Look, Larry. Maybe there IS something between us, and maybe there isn't. It doesn't matter, because you can't just claim people as your own like that! Do you know for a fact that Iris feels the same way about you?!"

Larry had not, in fact, considered that Iris might feel differently. The very thought shut down his already limited brain. "How do you know she doesn't?!" he yelled back at Phoenix. "You think…you think she's too good for me, don't you?!"

"Larry, I never said anything like that-"

"Shuddup!" Larry said. "I have to think!" It was possible, he supposed, that she didn't like him in that way. It was also possible that he wasn't deserving of her. But an idea suddenly came to him. He smirked evilly at Phoenix. "Maybe…maybe I'm not good enough for her. But, that won't be an issue…if I get rid of the competition!" Before Phoenix could respond, Larry pounced on the hospital bed and mashed the buttons on the attached remote, causing the bed to jerk up and down violently. "Sorry Nick, nothing personal!" Larry said as he tried to squash his oldest friend.

"Larry, enough! Stop, you're hysterical!" Even when ill, Phoenix was much stronger than Larry, and fought him off with little difficulty. Larry sank to the floor and began to cry. Phoenix just rolled his eyes.

"I-it's just, I thought we were like brothers, Nick! And you s-stole Iris from me!" Larry babbled.

Phoenix picked something up and held it out to Larry. "Here, this is what's bothering you so much, isn't it?" It was Iris' hood. Larry stared at it, wide-eyed. "Go on," Phoenix said. "Put it on. I know you want to, and if it'll make you feel better…" Larry snatched it before Phoenix could finish his sentence.

For the next hour, Larry ran around the hospital with the hood on, giggling like a schoolgirl and mumbling about his romantic fantasies. He bumped into a man in a white doctor's coat with a wild tuft of pink hair on his head. "That looks like a girl's hat, hmm, yes, a very pretty girl's hat. Hmm, yes, yes…" the man whispered as Larry passed.

When Larry had his fill, he brought the hood back to Phoenix. "Thanks a bunch, Nick! You're the best!" Larry hugged Phoenix awkwardly and waddled out of the room, completely care-free with a ridiculous grin plastered across his face. "See ya later!" he said.

Phoenix feigned a smile until Larry left the room and sunk into his pillows as soon as he was gone. "What an _idiot,_" he grumbled, and tried to remember a peaceful time, before he had ever met Larry.


	4. No Hablo Ingles

No Hablo Ingles – Bowling For Soup

There's always one person in an office or workplace that becomes the token goofball, and unfortunately for Detective Gumshoe, he was the fool of the Criminal Affairs Department. Other investigators were constantly yelling at him for tainting crime scenes, forgetting or losing important evidence, or just for putting off an errand that they themselves were too lazy to do. Being a well-natured man, Gumshoe never complained and always agreed to do whatever someone asked him to do.

That is, until he stumbled upon the perfect way out.

It came to him one day when he was walking Missile, the police dog that was one of the responsibilities forced on him. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the dog's company, he just didn't like being taken advantage of. Everyone was always shouting orders at him, what if he didn't understand them? What if…he didn't speak English? He decided to start his plan right then. He saw a sign that asked dog owners please to clean up after their pets. He looked down at Missile, who had just finished his business. "Um…no hablo ingles, pal!" he said to himself, and laughed as he and the dog continued their walk.

Since his idea had worked out so well the previous night, the good detective chose to continue with it. His first attempt was with a hippie girl on the street, who asked Gumshoe for money as he was walking to work. "Hey mister, could you spare a dollar?" the girl asked.

"S-sorry, no hablo ingles!" Detective Gumshoe said cheerfully as he passed.

"Please, mister! I have two kids! If you'd help me, Rain and Cloud would be able to eat!" the hippie called after him. He felt guilty for refusing her, and rushed back to give her a few dollars, despite the fact that it was the only cash he had.

"Thanks, man, that's real groovy of you," she said.

"Yeah well, with names like Rain and Cloud, those kids are gonna need help," he grumbled once he was out of earshot.

Though his first attempt didn't go very well, Detective Gumshoe was not discouraged. He hoped his next try would go a bit better.

The next person he encountered just so happened to be Chief Gant.

"Ah, Gumshoe, good to see you! Been swimming lately?" Gant exclaimed, clapping his hands loudly.

"Er, no, sir…" The Chief's energy always made him feel uncomfortable.

"Well, that's too bad…anyway, perfect timing, my boy! I was just looking for someone to make a coffee run…here, I'll even give you the cash!" Chief Gant said. "Just hop over to café a block over and pick me up something, alright? There's a good lad."

He was already walking away when the detective spoke up. "Um, n-no hablo ingles, sir…" he said uneasily. The Chief looked at him so fiercely that Gumshoe ran out of the precinct and came back with coffee in three minutes flat.

"Great, Detective, thanks a bunch! I really appreciate it!" Gant applauded. Gumshoe left the Chief's office quite dejected.

After two failed attempts, Gumshoe was beginning to lose hope in his idea. Just then, however, he saw Prosecutor Edgeworth walking toward him. _Well, third time's a charm, I guess, _he thought, and went to greet Mr. Edgeworth.

"Oh, Detective, I was just looking for you. I have a few evidence submission forms here, and I'm going to need you to stay late tonight to complete them. Can you handle that?" Edgeworth asked.

Gumshoe took a deep breath and answered slowly, "No hablo ingles, sir!"

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that right? How unfortunate." The prosecutor repeated his request, but this time, in Spanish. Gumshoe stared at him dumbfounded.

"Y-yessir, I'll get right on it," he sighed. Mr. Edgeworth dumped the files on Gumshoe's desk and left, muttering something about next month's salary review. The detective sank down in his chair and lackadaisically began the paperwork.

After working peacefully for a few hours, Gumshoe was disturbed by the loud whine of a megaphone and an annoying voice shouting, "OFFICER MICHAEL MEEKINS REPORTING FOR DUTY, SIIIIR!"

Alarmed, the detective looked up. "What are you doin' here, pal? You a new recruit or something? Are you lost?"

The sorry-looking boy in uniform began twiddling his thumbs. "N-no, sir. Not lost. The other detectives told me to report here, and that you would be in charge of me."

Gumshoe groaned loudly, but then, something came to him. A plan far better than the one he had hatched earlier.

"Okay, Mike, here's the deal. From now on, my duties are your duties. Can you handle that kind of responsibility, pal?" Officer Meekins nodded eagerly and saluted.

"Great. Now, organize these files and take them to the Records Room. Then take these forms over to Mr. Edgeworth at the Prosecutor's Office. Then you need to take Missile for a walk. Oh, but first!" said Gumshoe, enjoying his newfound power, "Go get me a cup of coffee. I'll uh…pay you back later, when I have cash."

Meekins raised his megaphone. "YESSIR! RIGHT AWAY, SIR!" he said, and ran off to do his assigned tasks.

Gumshoe leaned back in his chair with a happy sigh. Maybe the day hadn't been a waste, after all.


	5. Uprising

**Note: Forgive me for this ;_; I still don't know what I was thinking. And no disrespect to P/E shippers, I was just goofin' around is all! Honest!**

Uprising – Muse

T'was a gloomy Saturday morning in January. Phoenix had just made himself a warm cup of coffee and was sitting down in front of his battered old laptop. He decided to check the most recent news regarding him and Googled his name. He took a long swig from his mug as he waited for the search results to appear.

He scanned over the results and proceeded to spit his coffee all over the computer screen. What he saw was positively appalling. Drawings and stories were splayed across the screen, all involving him and a certain prosecutor in very homoerotic situations. Phoenix considered himself as straight as they come, so the thought that so many people would make such an assumption from a mere friendship with another man shocked him.

T'was still a gloomy Saturday morning in January. Miles Edgeworth was sitting in his office peacefully enjoying his cup of Earl Grey. He sipped it thoughtfully and began his paperwork. He tended to like gloomy weather; it made him feel calm and cozy. That feeling would not last long.

Suddenly, Phoenix burst into his office, looking disheveled and carrying his laptop. "Have you seen this?!" he shouted as he slammed the computer on Edgeworth's desk. Edgeworth was taken aback, and scolded Phoenix for being so reckless toward his poor desk.

"Just look, Edgeworth! Look at what people are doing!" said Phoenix. He turned the computer to face Edgeworth and opened it to the offending page. Edgeworth leaned in to see, and immediately turned away to dry-heave.

"What the-who the hell is doing all of this?!" he said.

"I don't know, lonely teenage girls it seems! But it needs to be stopped!" replied Phoenix.

"Well, obviously! I never realized we had reached this level of popularity…" Edgeworth said, trying to regain composure.

Phoenix was growing impatient. "Well?! What are we going to do about it?"

"Shush, Wright, I'm thinking," Edgeworth said. After a few moments he stood up abruptly. "I've got it. Now, as these…creations depict us in a very compromising and generally inappropriate manner, they are technically a form of libel. Ergo, we'll sue them. All of them."

Phoenix pounded the desk with his fist, which resulted in more chiding from Edgeworth. "Yes! We are lawyers, after all. What better way to fight them than with the law?"

Edgeworth began pacing around his office, arms crossed. "We'll need to be very clear for our reasoning, though. We must state that it has nothing to do with discrimination toward the gay community. Instead, we explain that we merely find this sort of "fanwork" degrading. We'll say we're being made into objects by it."

Phoenix nodded eagerly. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's start tracking them down!"

It wasn't very hard to find the girls, since they were only too excited to hear that their favorite lawyers were coming to see them, and gladly gave away any personal information they were asked for.

The two men were now standing outside the first culprit's home. "What's wrong with the youth of today?" Edgeworth whispered. "Just giving out their addresses and phone numbers like that, no wonder…" he stopped talking when he saw the door open.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! OH MY GOD IT'S REALLY YOU I CAN'T BELIEVE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT! YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER I ALWAYS KNEW I WAS RIGHT ABOUT YOOOUUUU!" Edgeworth flinched and Phoenix covered his ears. They were not accustomed to such shrill shrieks. Then again, they had never met face-to-face with a yaoi obsessed fangirl.

"Miss, we've come to inform you of the lawsuit against you, regarding these…depictions," Edgeworth said as Phoenix handed her a portfolio of all her creations. He then handed her a subpoena. "We'll see you in court." They left, leaving one very confused young lady in their wake.

So, one by one, the dynamic duo took down each of their offenders with lawsuits, restraining orders, and even the occasional prescription for Rydalin.

They were standing in Edgeworth's office after yet another victory. Phoenix was thumbing through their list of delinquents. "I think we've eliminated pretty much all of them now…wait," he said. "There's just one more girl. And, from the looks of it, she's the worst one yet."

Edgeworth sighed. "This is ridiculous. Is there no other way these girls can be occupying themselves? Perhaps studying might be a better use of their time." Phoenix didn't answer, but instead walked over to the computer and began looking for information on this mystery woman.

"Hmm, maybe it's a better idea not to make our charges in person, especially if she's as fanatical as she seems," Phoenix said, and Edgeworth nodded in agreement. They both shuddered, remembering the copious amounts of glomping they'd had to endure over the past several weeks.

T'was no longer a gloomy Saturday morning in January. Phoenix and Edgeworth figured it was about a month or so since they had declared total war on their insane fans, but the whole ordeal had been so exhausting that it felt much longer. However, one thing was for sure. It was the last step before their ultimate victory. All they had left to do was annihilate the last of their enemies' hope.

This was judgment day.

All the documents were finalized; all that was left to do was to win. Phoenix and Edgeworth stood in the courtroom waiting for the defendant to arrive, quite confident in themselves. They had not yet had the pleasure of meeting their offender, and were curious but apprehensive about meeting the accused—especially since she was likely enraged by being forced out of her fortress of yaoi. Their imaginations were put on hold as the judge entered and pounded his gavel, calling for court to begin.

"Would the accused please come forward?" His Honor said in a particularly dull tone. The two attorneys turned to face their wrongdoer, and the both of them nearly fell to the ground out of shock.

"A-Adrian Andrews?!" Phoenix and Edgeworth hollered in unison. Adrian was looking even mousier than usual, and hung her head from shame and embarrassment.

"Um, yes. H-hello." She tried to smile but failed miserably.

Phoenix was livid. "You, of all people?! I'd think you would be more sensitive to objectifying others than anyone! What possessed you to do this?!"

Adrian went two shades paler due to sheer terror. She pushed her glasses further along her nose. "I-I'm so sorry to have caused you this much trouble, it's just that…" she paused and took a deep breath, which seemed to strengthen her a bit. "You two seemed to fit so well together! A-And you're such good friends, I didn't want…" she went silent at the sight of Phoenix's face.

"Yes, FRIENDS, Adrian!FRIENDS! That's the point! We're just friends, so stop assuming there's anything more to it!"

Adrian began to weep. "I'm s-soooo sorry! It was foolish of me, I-I'll never do anything like it ever again! But, please, I've already been in too much trouble with the law! Please, please have mercy…" She fell to her knees and continued groveling.

Phoenix and Edgeworth exchanged glances, and then Phoenix whispered something to his friend. Edgeworth sighed audibly and then spoke. "Your Honor, we wish to drop all charges against this woman," he said.

"Very well," said the judge, looking a bit disturbed from the bizarre performance he had just witnessed. "Er, court adjourned then. That's all." His gavel echoed through the room, and everyone cleared out.

Phoenix and Edgeworth crossed the courtroom to the defendant's stand, where Adrian was still kneeling on the floor. Phoenix helped her to her feet, and as she opened her mouth to speak, Edgeworth held his hand up to silence her. "Before you thank us Adrian, as I can tell you were planning to do numerous times, we have a few requests to make."

"Yes, yes, anything!" Adrian was nodding her head so violently it looked as if it could have gone flying off.

"First, we'd like you to remove everything you've created involving us from the Internet," Phoenix said.

"Second, we ask that you please halt the creation of such things," Edgeworth continued.

"And finally, you'd like me to keep all thoughts of the kind to myself. Correct?" Adrian asked.

"Yes, or stop these ideas all together, if possible," Edgeworth said.

Adrian agreed, thanked the two men profusely (as Edgeworth predicted), and scurried out of the courthouse.

The two attorneys remained in the silent courtroom for a few moments, when Edgeworth suddenly spoke up. "Yes, well…I believe this whole ordeal has been sufficiently awkward." He extended his hand, and Phoenix shook it. "Good…teamwork, Wright," he said, and he left with a smirk. Phoenix followed not far behind.

T'was a cool evening in March, and Miles Edgeworth was sitting in his office, reading and enjoying his nightly tea. Now that the trauma from his fans was dealt with, he could finally relax. There was pounding on the door, and he looked up to see none other than his adoptive sister, the legendary prosecutor Franziska von Karma, storming into the room.

"Yes, Franziska? Something bothering you?" Miles took a long sip of tea and set the cup down.

"Shut up, fool! How dare you even think to speak so nonchalantly after such foolish actions?" Franziska said, practically foaming from the mouth. "You should be ashamed!"

Miles was baffled. "Just what have I done to offend you so?" he asked.

"You know what you've done! All your recent lawsuits, based on such tomfoolery I can hardly stand to look at you! Taking all those foolish girls seriously enough to sue them says something to me! Their assumptions are all true!"

Franziska lifted her whip threateningly as Miles tried to object. "Don't be ridiculous! Just calm yourself and I'll be happy to explain—Ahh!" His words had failed to make Franziska see reason, and she unleashed her anger on poor Miles with many flicks of her whip. "You dare associate yourself with such a pathetic, foolish man as Phoenix Wright! You've disgraced the good name of von Karma! Dragged it through the mud! You have no right to call yourself a disciple of my Papa! Miles Edgeworth! You! Shall! Pay!" she hollered between lashes.

Miles gave up arguing and simply tried to protect his head, wondering what had become of his calm evening.

While poor Mr. Edgeworth was being flayed by a teenage girl, Phoenix was sitting in his own office watching television. As he was about to head home for the evening, he heard a knock on the door, and rushed to open it.

"Maya! And Pearls! What are you two doing here? Shouldn't you be in Kurain Village?" Phoenix smiled as he let them in. Maya was immediately drawn to the TV, which was now playing the Steel Samurai, and sat in what had previously been Phoenix's seat.

"Well Nick, Pearly heard about your recent lawsuits. You know, with Mr. Edgeworth? And she really wanted to come over here and talk to you about it." She turned and beamed at him. "So, here we are!"

"Oh! Did you have a question about something, Pearls?" Phoenix said as he kneeled down to her level, always eager to help.

Pearl did not seem to be her usually chipper self. "M-Mr. Nick! How could you?!" she said.

"Wha-? Huh? What's wrong?" Phoenix asked. He saw Maya snickering, and became worried.

"How could you betray Mystic Maya like that?! After all you've been through together, how could you treat your special someone so horridly?! Especially leaving her for a man like Mr. Edgeworth! I…I'll never forgive you! Never!" Pearl yelled, and began to punch, slap and kick poor Phoenix.

"Whoa, Pearl! Calm down! You've got it all wrong, I can explain! Maya! Maya, help me out here!" he cried, but to no avail. Maya was watching from a distance, and laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face.

Pearl saw the tears and became more infuriated. "You see, Mr. Nick? Now Mystic Maya is crying, and all because of you! You should feel ashamed!" And the hits kept coming.

And so, here were our two heroes, both suffering from a fate few can say they've had to tolerate. A cruel fate consisting of two young ladies beating the crap out of them. As they waited for their punishments to end, they pondered what had put them in that position. Perhaps there was another way they could've rid themselves of their fangirls, a more discreet way. Indeed, as they endured their share of pain, they both wished quite fervently that they had gone about finding justice in a very different fashion.


	6. Are You Gonna Be My Girl

**WULL HOWDY. It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry for the delay with a new story…those of you still with me, a dozen warm fuzzies to each of you! **

**I've always thought that this song is sooo perfect for a Klema. And when I listened to it the other day this whole story just kinda struck me, and I listened to it on repeat the entire time I was working out. *sigh* I've got Klema on the brain… You likey? Reviewy and make a girl smile.**

**-x-x-x-**

Are You Gonna Be My Girl - Jet

"Yes…that sounds wonderful, of course. I'd love to. Thanks again. Alright, ciao." Klavier hung up the phone quite jubilantly, and looked suddenly with surprise.

"Fräulein, were you eavesdropping on my phone call?" he said while his signature smirk of arrogance spread across his face. Ema scowled and hurried over to his desk, dropping the pile of papers she had brought for the prosecutor. Whenever she was forced to visit his office, the only thing on her mind was leaving as soon as possible. She thought it was a conspiracy between all the other detectives to make her feel awkward, since she was _always _the one who had to deliver files.

"You wish, Gavin," she muttered. "I need you to read over these and sign them so I can get out of here."

"Ach, you wish to leave me again so soon? I must say that your open hostility towards me hurts, Fräulein Skye." He continued smirking, but did as he was told and began to read the files.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes before Klavier spoke again. "So Detektiv, do you wish to know what that phone call was about?"

She sighed. _It's better than just sitting here, at least, _she thought. "Sure, Gavin, I'll bite. What was the phone call?"

He leaned back in his chair and fixed his eyes on the woman before him. Ema subconsciously twitched. "A certain band has just invited me to cover one of their songs with them. One of my favorite bands, in fact."

Ema struggled to feign interest. She had been hoping that it would have been something along the lines of, "That was a government call. I'm getting deported," but of course, nothing ever happens the way she wants it to. "Hm. Great, Gavin. What band?"

Klavier smiled. "I'll be picking a song this afternoon. It's Jet…are you familiar with Jet, Detektiv?" As soon as he mentioned the name, Ema picked up her head, eyes wide. "Jet?" she repeated. She was amazed that Klavier would be covering a song with a band she actually liked. What surprised her more was that that meant she and Gavin had something in _common._

He looked at her bemusedly, shocked that he had actually elicited a reaction. "Yes, I take it you are a fan?"

Still bewildered, she nodded. "They're one of my favorites…partly because my sister Lana had introduced them to me, so their music was always something special we could share." Wait, did she really just share something as emotional as that with the fop? She was tempted to smack herself in the head.

The prosecutor just nodded with a faded smile. "I see…that must be nice to relate so well to your sibling. Kristoph and I never shared musical interests, among other things."

"T-that's too bad...Lana and I didn't always get along, though; she had been in a really dark place in her life until a few years ago…" Ema said, soon after having the urge to bash her head on the desk. _What's wrong with you, Ema! _she thought. _So you two actually have something in common. Big whoop. That doesn't mean you can go blabbing your innermost thoughts!_

Klavier leaned forward across his desk. Somehow, his starting this conversation had brought out a kinder Ema, and he was eager not to lose the opportunity to actually talk to her. "I'm relieved to hear I'm not the only one with sibling problems. Tell me about it, Fräulein."

For whatever reason, she did. Ema told Klavier everything that had happened to herself and her sister years ago, and Mr. Wright's role in saving them. Klavier sat there, his eyes focused steadily on her, and listening intently. When she had finished, he related his own story about his conflicts with his brother. They continued to sit there talking about everything: hopes, aspirations, fears, memories, regrets. There was something different in Mr. Gavin, Ema noticed. As soon as he mentioned his brother, his expression changed. He seemed much more sincere; more like a real person, and one to whom she could relate. Before she knew it, she felt…comfortable; laughing and smiling, as if they were old friends.

She soon found herself confessing her dream of being a forensic scientist, but stopped mid-sentence, a blush rising in her cheeks. Klavier gave her a quizzical look. "S-sorry," she said, "it sounds incredibly stupid, I know."

Gavin shook his head and leaned in closer still. "Not in the slightest. It's an excellent dream, and one you shouldn't give up on…you'll accomplish it one day. I have no doubt." He shot her a genuine smile, and she couldn't help but smile back. They locked eyes for a moment and Ema felt her heart skip a beat. She leapt back in her seat abruptly, just now realizing how close their bodies had become.

"Oh, my God!" she gasped after looking at her watch. "I'm so late, I had to get these files back to the precinct...the Chief is gonna have my head."

Klavier smirked at her panicked expression. "Fear not, Miss Skye," he said, signing the last of the papers with a flourish, "you've done what you came her to do. I'll give Herr Chief a call to explain the situation. I assure you he won't be angry."

Ema rolled her eyes, but her gratitude was quite clearly evident. "Thanks, Gavin. I'll be going, then." She scooped up the papers she had brought with her and made her way to the office door.

"Ema."

The sound of Klavier speaking her first name was most unusual. She turned to face him at his desk but met the sight of him mere feet in front of her. She yelped in surprise. _How does someone his size, with shoes that thick, manage to move so soundlessly? _she thought.

His expression was serene, but she noticed something in his eyes as he stared at her. She had never paid attention to how nice his eyes were…

"Um…yes?" she asked.

His face did not change. "Thank you for confiding in me. I appreciate it."

She smiled earnestly. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Back at you, Gavin." He made no motion to leave, and neither did she. "Was that it?" she inquired.

"Ach, no. I was wondering if you would care to join me at the recording studio tomorrow. Since we're both fans, perhaps you'd like the chance to meet Jet."

She brought her hand to her mouth in surprise at the proposition. "Y-yeah, that sounds great. Thanks," she smiled.

He grinned back at her. "Of course. I shall pick you up at the precinct tomorrow morning, ja?" Ema nodded and turned to go.

"Oh…Klavier? It was nice talking to you." And with that, she left.

Gavin walked back to his desk and sat, sighing contentedly. _Who knew Fräulein Detektiv_ _was so agreeable? _he mused. He remembered he still needed to select a song, and began to sort through familiar titles. He came across one and stopped, smirking satisfactorily to himself.

_Perfect. _

...

When Klavier went to pick Ema up the next day, he hardly recognized her. She had traded in her usual blouse and vest for a light, forest green scoop neck, combined with dark-wash jeans and a pair of black leather boots. Instead of her usual hairdo, she left it down, cascading halfway down her back. However, her messenger bag full of science-and-snack-related necessities was still slung over her shoulder, and she had her familiar lab coat draped over her arm. For reasons unknown to him, Klavier felt his pulse pick up excitedly when she walked over and entered his car. He merely dismissed it as nerves and greeted her. She smiled at him and sat down.

"I appreciate the fact that you brought an actual car, Gavin," she teased.

Klavier laughed. "I feared the good Detektiv may change her mind about coming, had I brought my motorcycle."

"You feared correctly."

He ran his eyes over her again. In all honesty, he liked her sudden change in apparel. It made her seem less covered, more unguarded.

"That's a new outfit," he remarked.

She looked down as if to remind herself what she was wearing. "Oh yeah, I just felt like doing something different. It's kind of a special occasion, anyway."

"It's lovely," he whispered. Ema wasn't sure if she'd heard correctly and didn't answer, but she blushed anyway, turning her head the other way.

The two were considerably quiet on the ride over, still trying to get accustomed to the other's company. When they arrived at the studio, Ema remembered something she had wanted to ask.

"Oh, I forgot. I still don't know what song you're singing," she said.

Gavin smirked mischievously. "I guess the Fräulein will have to consider that a surprise, then," and got out of the parked car, going and opening the door for her. She rolled her eyes—again, in jest—and followed him toward the intended building.

The recording room was very small, but Ema hardly minded. The festive atmosphere of being the meeting place of many great bands was enough to keep her excited. Within a few moments the band members they were awaiting had entered, and Klavier was familiarly shaking hands with each of them. They then turned their attention to Ema, and after an enthusiastic introduction, they all began chatting.

"So, Ema; a homicide detective. That's pretty impressive. Do things every get scary on the job?" the lead singer asked her. She laughed in response. "Not often, it's mostly paperwork for me." The singer chuckled.

"Hey, Gavin, you're a prosecutor," he called. "You should give her a break once in a while. Get someone else to do paperwork."

The man smirked flirtatiously, as he often did, and looked at his lady companion.

"Ema here is one of the most competent detectives on the force; I fear what would happen if she wasn't the one in charge of files," and Ema blushed at the compliment. She opened her mouth to answer, but the band's manager soon entered and said they needed to set up equipment. The musicians entered the next room and began testing, while Ema sat outside the booth and fiddled with the pins on her bag. Klavier paused what he was doing and watched her keenly through the glass. He felt someone touch his shoulder and almost dropped the microphone stand he was holding.

"Ach, sorry for my distraction," he told the fellow singer, and set the stand down beside him. The man gave him a curious look and put his guitar strap his chest. "Is she your girl, Gavin?" he asked, gesturing toward Ema.

Klavier laughed uncomfortably, and shook his head. "Nein…she's just a co-worker. A friend, perhaps. Nothing more." The musician did not look convinced, but he refrained from prying. The Gavinneer mentally smacked himself. He was never awkward when talking about women; he was cool and unaffected. What was the problem now?

He didn't have much time to ponder, though. The band was fully set and he was at the microphone as guest singer. Before long, the guitar cued him in.

_Go!_

_So 1, 2, 3, take my hand and come with me  
because you look so fine  
and I really wanna make you mine._

I say you look so fine  
that I really wanna make you mine.

Ema couldn't help but laugh to herself once she recognized the song. Did Gavin have some way of knowing it was her favorite, or was it really a coincidence?

_Oh, 4, 5, 6, c'mon and get your kicks  
now you don't need that money  
when you look like that, do ya honey?_

Big black boots,  
long brown hair,  
she's so sweet  
with her get back stare!

Klavier glanced up and caught Ema's eye. She was beaming at him. He nearly faltered for a moment; he rarely saw her smile, and he was never the cause of it, so he had failed to notice what a beautiful smile it was…

_Well I could see,  
you home with me,  
but you were with another man, yea!  
I know we,  
ain't got much to say,  
before I let you get away, yeah!  
I said, are you gonna be my girl?_

And then it hit him how much he wanted to be with her. He was so used to having girls chase after him that he had never needed to do any chasing, himself. So naturally, it hadn't occurred to him that the most worthwhile would be the woman that wasn't easily attainable. But he was sure of it now; the way she looked, the way she talked, the way she made him feel, it was exactly what he wanted in another person but didn't understand how to find. He loved her like nothing ever before—

"Gavin? Hey, Klavier. Is there a problem?" He looked up and noticed a concerned look in Ema's eyes, then turned to face the other musicians. They were all looking at him in confusion, exchanging glances with each other. Klavier realized he had stopped singing in the middle of the song. He coughed and ran his hand through his bangs in an attempt to cover his embarrassment.

"What? Oh, nein. There is no problem, I merely got distracted. My apologies. Shall we go again?"

They did another take, this time without trouble, as Klavier focused on the task at hand with all his might. _If this is really what love is like, _he thought, _then it's going to be awfully hard to concentrate on anything anymore._

He and the band finished recording, the manager explaining excitedly that the single would be included on their next album. After giving their thanks and farewells, Gavin and Ema made their way back down to the street. The air had gotten cold and brisk, and when he saw Ema shiver, he was tempted to put his arm around her. He stopped himself, however, and offered her his jacket instead.

She shook her head and smiled. "Thanks, but I have my own," she said, gesturing to her lab coat. Her expression then grew more serious, and she looked him in the eyes. He felt pulse accelerating.

"Klavier…what happened in there? When you stopped singing. Were you okay?"

He was silent, trying to think of a reasonable excuse. "Ach, it was nothing. My mind just wandered elsewhere. That's all."

"O-oh. You had just been staring at me and you suddenly stopped, so I didn't know—as long as you're fine, I guess." Ema was idly swinging her foot back and forth. If Klavier didn't know better, he would have thought there was…disappointment in her voice.

He quickly changed the subject. "It's cold out here, ja? I can take you home now, if you like."

Ema looked shocked at the offer, and shook her head quickly. "Oh, someone actually volunteered to come and pick me up. We had plans for later, so…" As she spoke, a small car pulled up beside them and stopped, a handsome young man exiting.

"Well, speak of the Devil," she smiled at him, and the man came over and put his arm around the detective. Klavier looked at them both skeptically. Ema began to explain.

"Ah, Klavier, this is Charlie. We've sort of been seeing each other for a while."

"Well if you listened to how she said it, you'd think she hates being with me!" Charlie said with a grin, kissing the top of Ema's head. She looked away, smiling uncomfortably. Klavier felt his stomach lurch.

Charlie then focused his attention on Klavier, looking awestruck. "Wait a minute, Klavier? As in _the _Klavier Gavin? Oh dude, I love your music! You're really an inspiration!" he said, shaking the rock star's hand with both of his and far too much enthusiasm.

Klavier smiled out of politeness, quickly autographing the CD that the man had thrust in front of him. He looked over and smirked at Ema, who rolled her eyes at him.

Once they had been properly acquainted, Ema said they should be going and walk toward the car. She had to force Charlie into the driver's seat, as he had become smitten with Klavier and would not have left if given the choice. Ema smiled once more at Klavier before they drove away, and he gave her a small wave. Once they were gone, he walked to find his own car.

He drove to his office furiously. Despite his efforts to distract himself, he couldn't stop thinking of Ema.

_You had to realize a little too late, didn't you, Gavin? _he thought venomously to himself. _She's taken and you're stuck feeling like…this. __Ich bin so ein__verdammt__Idiot!_

He sat somberly in his office for the next hour or so, trying to work out his thoughts. Eventually he tossed his guitar aside and just sat there, his head in his hands. Suddenly he heard his door open and jerked his head up.

"E-Ema? "

She stopped dead in her tracks, looking as surprised as he was. "Whoa, Gavin. The secretary said you weren't in, I was just going to drop the autopsy report and leave…"

He laughed feebly. "I snuck in while she was on break."

"Ah."

There was a considerably silence for the next several minutes. Ema walked over to the man's desk and placed the report down, turning to go again. Something stopped her, however, and she turned to see Klavier, his hand gripping her arm, looking at her with eyes smoldering. Their closeness was alarming.

"Ema…where's Charlie?"

She stuttered and looked off to one side. "H-huh? Who?"

He smiled at her warmly. "The man you're seeing, whose acquaintance I just made?"

"O-oh! Charlie, duh. It's funny, actually…" She was fidgeting with her hair. "I just broke up with him."

Klavier felt like jumping on his desk and dancing, but instead he put his hands in his pockets and leaned against his desk casually. "Really? That was sudden."

"Yeah, well, I've been planning on it for a while now. But after seeing him today, I knew I couldn't be with him anymore. I mean, he was drooling all over you. You'd think he'd prefer dating you over me." They both laughed.

"Honestly, I can't say I'm disappointed," Klavier said, and with that, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against his Fräulein's. They stayed for a moment before she broke away breathlessly.

An impish smirk spread across her face and she put her hands on her hips. "It is so like you to kiss me with your hands in your pockets, Klavier Gavin," she said.

He smiled back at her, his heart warming at her words. He slowly moved his hands, one to the base of her neck and the other to her waist. He kissed her with more fervor, letting his mouth mend with hers.

"Ema-" he said suddenly, but she put a slender finger to his lips to silence him.

"You don't have to ask," she grinned. "I think I'm already your girl."

**-x-x-x-**

**Oh God, this was supposed to be a short one. Now it's the longest. This is my first-ever romance, and my first Klema. Sometimes it's hard putting the story in your head—that plays like a movie—into written form. *covers face with hands out of awkwardness* I hope it wasn't too terribly bad. More feedback means more reason to write, which means faster updates! And we all love a good update :D**


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